Double Entendre
by Valtyr
Summary: Mytho, much to Fakir's displeasure, has a hard time understanding people and choosing his words appropriately. Unfortunately, sometimes misunderstandings happen, and Mytho's naive nature leads to hijinks. One-shot, super short, crack.


**Author's note:** This was originally posted to my now-defunct Livejournal fic dump as part of a writing exercise. I've decided to repost it here, since I got a reasonably positive response, and wouldn't mind sharing it with the world. Have some crack.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?"

Fakir had made the mistake of leaving Mytho alone again. For some reason, he hadn't been permitted to bring his roommate along to a very stinted and vague discussion with their teacher, the point of which was either that he shouldn't worry about getting married, or that he needed to learn how to work with others. He couldn't really be certain.

He had remembered to lock the door, of course, and the window; yet somehow Mytho had managed to use the fifteen minutes he had to himself to do something weird. The prince raised his head with a sound that might have been one of alarm if he were capable of that, and paused in his efforts to shove his bed across the room. He'd made good progress, to his credit.

"I'm putting our beds together," he replied, giving his bed another nudge toward Fakir's.

The knight raised an eyebrow, blinking. "Why?" was all he could manage to say, but it was really the only thing hat needed be said.

"Because a girl told me to do it," Mytho replied in his usual monotone. "She said it would make things easier."

"Things?" Fakir repeated, shooing Mytho away from the bed. "What kind of things? Why would you have to do that?"

Mytho blinked and stared ahead vacantly for a moment, as if the little bookkeeper in his head had run to the back to retrieve the relelvent file. "Sleeping," he answered once he'd recalled the information. "She said that since we're sleeping together, pushing the beds together to make a big one would be easier in the long run."

Suddenly, it had become Fakir's turn to space out as his brain tried feebly to put the implications of that statement together in a way that did not imply that someone, somewhere, was under the impression that he and Mytho were... were...

"GAH! Why would she think that?" Fakir sputtered, mostly to himself. He noticed Mytho pushing at the bed again and flailed at him.

"Because I told her we were," Mytho said as he took a step back to avoid being smacked.

Fakir's face (and most of his head and neck, really) turned a vibrant shade of red as he resisted the desire to leap across the bed and throttle the prince. What kind of knight would he be if he strangled him?

"Fakir, your face looks strange," Mytho observed bluntly.

"Why in the world would you tell her something like that?" Fakir demanded. "You idiot! What were you thinking!"

Mytho didn't seem concerned for Fakir's state of mind, which was to be expected. "Are you angry? I only told her that because she asked, and because we sleep together."

"Not like that!" Fakir snapped. "We share a room! Sleeping together means something very, very different. It means something... Well, something that we're definitely not doing; something that we will never, ever do. You can't just tell people we're doing that!"

"So you are angry," Mytho reasoned as he crawled onto his bed.

No pants. Again. Any normal person would be upset by his roommate lounging around half naked, but Fakir had grown accustomed to it some time ago. It was a shame, really, that he usually didn't feel anything one way or the other when Mytho ran around in various states of undress. He sometimes wondered if doctors came to feel the same way. He'd once been consoled by a doctor who told him that naked bodies were 'just meat' to him, and distinctly remembered wondering what the doctor's wife thought of that sentiment.

"Of course I am, but I guess being mad won't fix this" Fakir said in one long exhaled breath. "Now come on; we should probably go clear this up."

Mytho blinked up at him. "Clear what up?"

"The fact that we are not sleeping together," Fakir said as he grabbed Mytho's hand and hauled him off the bed. "Get dressed; we're off to do damage control."

"But we do sleep together," Mytho reasoned to himself as he pulled his pants on.

"Sleeping together and sleeping in the same room are totally different things!" Fakir said. He was growing tired of repeating himself. He grabbed Mytho's hand again and lead him to the door, moodily stomping the whole way. "Hopefully we can find her before she tells anyone else..."

Mytho was quiet for some time, seemingly biding his time before piping up in the middle of the busy hallway.

"If what we're doing isn't sleeping together, then what is?"

"I'll- I'll tell you later! Moron..." Fakir muttered as he tried to hurry out of the dormitory without attracting too many stares.


End file.
